An Old Fashioned Thanksgiving by Louisa May Alcott -Part 1

"An Old-Fashioned Thanksgiving" is a short story written by Louisa May Alcott, the author of the beloved novel "Little Women." This charming and heartwarming tale is set in the 19th century and revolves around the Bassett family. When the mother falls ill on Thanksgiving Day, her children must take charge of preparing the holiday feast. Despite their initial mishaps and challenges, the children's determination and resourcefulness lead to a heartwarming Thanksgiving celebration. The story explores themes of family, tradition, and the importance of coming together during the holiday season. It is a delightful and nostalgic narrative that captures the spirit of Thanksgiving in a simpler time.





















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Episode Transcript

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Part one of an Old Fashioned Thanksgivingby Louisa may Alcott. This is a
LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings arein the public domain. For more information
or to volunteer, please visit LibriVoxdot org. Nar Reader read by Maria
Therees. Missus Bassett read by ElizabethKlett. Seth Bassett read by Stephanie Heinrichs

(00:26):
Saw Bassett read by Gray Garrett.Tillie Bassett read by Eden Ray Hendrick Roxy
read by Lynde Silver Rody read byCharlotte Dagat. Prue Bassett read by Ari
L. Lipshaw. Mister Bassett readby Todd F. Bassett read by Samantha

(00:47):
Gubets Gard Hopkins read by Bill Mosely. Aunt Cynthia read by Lynn Thompson.
Part one, Sixty years ago.Up among the New Hampshire Hills, the
farmer basket with a household of sturdysons and daughters growing up about him.

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They were poor in money, butrich in land and love for the wide
acres of wood, corn and pasture. Land fed warmed and clothed the flock,
while mutual patience, affection, andcourage made the old farmhouse a very
happy home. November had come.The crops were in, and barn buttery
and bin river flowing with a harvestthat rewarded the summer's hard work. The

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big kitchen was a jolly place justnow. For in the great fireplace roe
at a cheerful fire. On thewalls hung garlands of dried apples, onions,
and corn up aloft from the beams, shunk crooked neck squashes, juicy
hams, and dried venison. Forin those days deer still haunted the deep
forests, and hunters flourished. Savorysmells are in the air on the crane

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hung steaming kettles, and down amongthe red embers, copper saucepans simmered,
all suggestive of some approaching feast.A white headed baby lay in the old
black cradle that had rock seven otherbabies now, and then, lifting his
head to look out like a roundfull moon, then subsided to kick and
crow contentedly and suck the rosy applehe had no teeth to bite. Two

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small boys sat on the wooden settle, shelling corn for popping, and picking
out the biggest nuts from the goodlystore their own hands had gathered. In
October four young girls stood a longdresser busily chopping meat, pounding spice,
and slicing apples, and the tonguesof Tilly, Prue, Roxy and Rody
went as fast as their hands.Farmer Basset and f the oldest boy were

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torn round outside for Thanksgiving was athand and almost be in order for that
time honored day to infer it fromtable to hearth. Bustled bucks of missus
Bassett, flushed and floury, butbusy in blithe as the queen bee of
this busy little hive should be.I do like to begin seasonable and have
things to my mind. Thanksgiving dinnerscan't be drove, and it does take

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a sight of victuals to fill allthese hungry stomachs, said the good woman,
as she gave a vigorous stir tothe great kettle a cider apple sauce,
and cast a glance of housewifely prideat the fine array of pies set
forth on the buttery shelves. Onlyone more day and then it will be
time to eat. I didn't takebut one bowl of hasty pudding this morning,
so I shall have plenty of roomwhen the nice things come. Confide,

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it saith the soul as he crackeda large hazel nut as easily as
a squirrel. No need of mystarving beforehand. I always have room enough,
and I'd like to have Thanksgiving everyday, answered Solomon, gloating like
a young ugur over the little pigthat lay nearby, ready for roasting.
Oh sakes, alive. I don'tboys, it's a mercy. It don't

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come but once a year. Ishould be worn to a thread paper with
all this extra work atop o mywinter weavin' and spinnin', laughed their mother,
as she plunged her plump arms intothe long bread trowel and began to
neat the dough, as if afamine was at hand. Tilly, the
oldest girl, a red cheeked,black eyed lass of fourteen, was grinding
briskly at the mortar, for spiceswere costly and not a grain must be

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wasted. Prue kept time with achopper, and the twins sliced away at
the apples till their little brown armsached. For all knew how to work,
and did so now with a will. I think it's real fun to
have Thanksgiving at home. I'm sorry, Grandma's sick, so we can't go
there as usual, but I'd liketo miss around here, don't you,
girls, asked Tilly, pausing totake a sniff at the spicy pestle.

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If we've a kind of lonesome,it's only our own fox. I'd like
to see all the cousins and auntsand have games Insang, cried the twins,
who were regular little romps and couldrun, swim, coast and shout
as well as their brothers. Idon't care a mite for all that.
It will be so nice to eatdinner together, warm and comfortable at home,
said quiet Prue, who loved herown cozy nooks like a cat.

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Calm, girls, fly round andget your chores done so we can clear
away for dinner. Just as soonas I class my bread into the oven,
call missus Bassett presently, as sherounded off the last loaf of brown
bread, which was to feed thehungry mouse that seldom tasted any other.
Here's a man coming up the hill. Lively, guess it's God, Hopkins.
Pa told em to bring a dozenoranges if they want to. Hie

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shouted, soul and seth running tothe door, while the girls smacked their
lips at the thought of this raretreat, and baby threw his apple overboard,
as if getting ready for a newcargo. But all were doomed to
disappointment, for it was not Gadwith the much desired fruit. It was
a stranger who threw himself off hishorse and hurried up to mister Bassett in
the yard with some brief message thatmade the farmer drop his axe and look

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so sober that his wife guessed atonce some bad news that come, and
crying mother's worse. I know sheis out ran the good woman, forgetful
of the flower on her arms,and the oven waiting for its most important
batch. The man settled mister Chadwickdown to Keene, stopped him as he
passed, and told him to tellmissus Bassett her mother was failing fast,

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and she'd better come to day.He knew no more, and having delivered
his errand he rode away, sayingit looked like snow, and you must
be dogging, or he wouldn't gethome till night. We must go right
off, ol Dad, hitch up, and I'll be ready and lessen no
time, said Missus Bassett, wastingnot a minute in tears and lamentations,
but pulling off her apron as shewent in with her mind in a sad

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jumble of bread, anxiety, turkey, sorrow, haste, and cider apple
sauce. A few words told thestory, and the children left their work
to help her get ready, minglingtheir grief for Grandma with regrets for the
lost dinner. I'm dreadful, sorry, DearS, but it can't be helped.
I couldn't cook nor eat no waynow. And if that blessed woman

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gets better sudden as she has before, we'll have cost for Thanksgiving, and
I'll give you a dinner you won'tforget in a hurry, said Missus Bassett
as she tied on her brown silkpumpkin hood with a sob for the good
old mother who had made it forher. No a child complained after that,
but ran about helpfully being moccasins,heating the footstone, and getting ready
for a long drive, because Grandmalived twenty miles away and there were no

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rare roads in those days to whistpeople to and fro like magic. By
the time the old yellow sleigh wasat the door, the bread was in
the oven, and Missus Bassett waswaiting with her camlet coak on, and
the baby done up like a smallbale of blankets. Now, f you
must look after the cattle like aman, and keep up the fires,
for there's a storm ruin, andneither the children nor dumb creatures must suffer,

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said mister Bassett as he turned upthe collar of his rough coat and
put on his blue mittens, whilethe old mare shook her bells as if
he preferred a trip to Keen tohauling wood all day. Tilly, put
extra comfortables on the beds tonight.The wind is so searchin' up chamber,
have the baked beans, an enginepuddin' for dinner, and whatever you do,
don't let the boys get at themince pies, or you'll have them

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down sick. I shall come backthe minute I can leave. Mother Paul
will come tomorrow anyway, So keepsnuggin', be good. I depend on
you, my daughter, use yourjudgment, and don't let nothing happen while
mother's away. Yes, yes,good bye, bye, good bye,
called the children as Missus Bassett waspacked into the sleigh and driven away,

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leaving a stream of directions behind her. F The sixteen year old boy immediately
put on his biggest boots, assumeda sober, responsible manner, and surveyed
his little responsibilities with a paternal air, jollied like his father's. Tillie tied
on her mother's bunch of keys,rolled up the sleeves of her homespuning gown,
and began to order about the youngergirls. They soon forgot poor Granny

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and found it great fun to keephouse all alone, for mother seldom left
home, but ruled her family inthe good old fashioned way. There were
no servants for the little daughters orMissus. Bassett's only maids, and the
stout boys helped their father, allworking happily together with no wages, but
love, learning in the best manner, the use of the heads and hands
with which they were to make theirown way in the world. Flakes that

(09:00):
caused the farmer to predict bad weathersoon increased to a regular snowstorm with gusts
of wind rup among the hills.Winter came early and lingered long, but
the children were busy, gay andwarm indoors, and never minded the rising
gale nor the whirling white storm outsidetill he got them a good dinner,
and when it was over, thetwo elder girls went through their spinning.

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For in the kitchen stood the bigand little wheels and baskets of wool rolls
ready to be twisted into yarn forthe winter's knitting. And each day brought
its stent of work to the daughters, who hoped to be as thrifty as
their mother. F kept up theglorious fire and superintended the small boys who
popped corn and little boots on thehearth, while Roxy and Rody dressed corn

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cob dolls in the subtle corner andbows. The brindled mastiff laid on the
braided mat, luxuriously warming his oldlegs. Thus employed, they made a
pretty picture. These rosy boys andgirls in their homespun suits and the rustic
toys or tasks with most children nowadayswould find very poor, tiresome Tillie and

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pruce sang as they stepped to andfro, drawing out the smoothly twisted threads
to the musical hum of the greatspinning wheels. The little girls chattered like
magpies over their dolls and the newbeds spread. They were planning to make
all white dimity stars on a bluecalico ground as a Christmas present. To
mar The boys roared Af's jokes andhad rough and tumble games over bows who

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didn't mind them in the least,And so the afternoon more pleasantly away.
At sunset, the boys went outto feed the cattle, ring in heaps
of wood, and lock up forthe night, as the lonely farmhouse seldom
had visitors. After dark, thegirls got the simple supper of brown bread
and milk, baked apples and adoughnut all round as a treat. Then

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they sat before the fire, thesisters knitting, the brothers with books or
games. Her f loved reading andsoul, and Seth never failed to play
a few games of Morris with Barleycorn'son the little board they made themselves at
one corner of the dresser read outa piece, said Tillie, from mother's
chair, where she sat in state, finishing off the six woolen sock she
had knit that month. It's theold history book, but here's a bit

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you may like, since it's aboutour folks, answered f, turning the
yellow page to look at a pictureto quaintly dressed children in some ancient castle.
Yes, read that. I alwayslike to hear about Lady Matildy I
was named for and Lord Bassett,Paul's great great great grandpa. He's only
a farmer now, but it's niceto know that we were somebody two or
three hundred years ago, said Tilly, bridling and tossing her curly head as

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she fancied that Lady Matilda might havedone. Don't treat it to your words,
because we don't understand him. Tellit, command it, roxy from
the cradle where she was drowsily cuddledwith Rody Well. A long time ago,
when Charles the First was in prison, Lord Bassett was a true friend
to him, began f plunging intohis story without delay. The Lord had

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some papers that would have hung alot of people. Of the King's enemies
got a hold of him. Sowhen he heard one day all of a
sudden that soldiers were at that castlegate to carry him off, he had
just time to call his girl tohim and say, I may be going
to my death, but I won'tbetray my master. There is no time

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to burn the papers, and Icannot take them with me. They are
hidden in the old leathern chair whereI sit. No one knows this but
you, and you must guard them. Till I come or send you a
safe messenger to take them away.Promise me to be brave and silent,
and I can go without fear.You see, he wasn't afraid to die,

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but he was to seem a traitor, Lady Matilde promised solemnly, and
the words were hardly out of hermouth when the men came in and her
father was carried away a prisoner andsent off to the tower. But she
didn't cry. She just called abrother and sat down in that chair with
her head leaning back on those paperslike the queen, and waited while the

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soldiers hunted the house over for him. Wasn't that a smart girl? Cried
Tilly, beaming with pride, forshe was named for this ancestress and knew
the story by heart. I reckon. She was scared, though, when
the men came swiring in and askedher if she knew anything about it.
The boy did his part then,for he didn't know, and fired up
and stood before his sister, andhe says, says, he as bold

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as a lion. If my lordhad told us where the papers be,
we would die before we would betrayhim. But we are children and know
nothing, and it is cowardly ofyou to try to fright us with oaths
and drawn swords. As f quotedfrom the book, Seth planted himself before

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Tilly with a long picker in hishand, saying, as he flourished it
valiantly, why didn't the boy takehis father's sword and lay about him?
I would if anyone was hush toTilly, you, bantam, he was
only a bit of a boy andcouldn't do anything. Sit down, hear
the rest of it. Command Tillywith a pat on the yellow head,
and a private resolve that Seth shouldhad the largest piece of pie at dinner

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next day, as he worried forhis chivalry. Well, the men went
off after turning the castle out ofthe window, but they said they should
come again. So faithful Matility wasfull of trouble and hardly dared to leave
the room where the chair stood.All day she sat there, and at
night her sleep was so full fearabout it, that she often got up

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and went to see that all wassafe. The servants thought the fright had
hurt her wits and let her be, But Rupert the boy stood by her
and never was afraid of her queerways. She was a pious maid,
the book says, and often spentthe long evenings written the Bible with her
brother by her, all alone inthe great room, with no one to

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help her bear her secret, andno good news of her father. At
last word came that the king wasdead and his friends banished out of England,
and the poor children were in asad plight, for they had no
mother, and the servants all ranaway, leaving only one faithful old man
to help them. But the fatherdid come, cried roxy eagerly, you'll

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see King King you death, halftelling, half reading. Matilda was sure
he would. So she sat onin the big chair, garden of papers,
and no one could get her awaytill one day a man came with
her father's ring and told her togive up the secret. She knew the
ring, but would not tell untilshe had asked many questions so as to

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be very sure. And while theman answered all about her father and the
king, she looked at him sharply. Then she stood up and sat in
a tremble, for there was somethingstrange about the man. Sir, I
doubt you in spite of the ring, and I will not answer till you
you pull off the false bear youwear that I may see your face and

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know if you are my father's friendor foe. Off came the disguise,
and Matilda found it was my Lordhimself come to take them with him out
of England. He was very proudof that faithful girl, I guess,
for the old chair still stands inthe castle, and the name keeps in
the family. Paul says, evenover here where some of the baskets came

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along with the pilgrims, Our Tillywould have been as brave I know,
and she looks like the old picturedown to Grandma's, don't she af cried
Prue, whomired her bold bright sistervery much. Well, I think you
do the setin' part best, Prue, you are so patient. Till would
fight like a wild cat, butshe can't hold her tongue with her scent,

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answered f whereat. Tilly pulled hishair, and the story ended with
a general Frowley. When the moonfaced clocked behind the door struck nine till
he tucked up to the children underthe extree comfortables, and having kissed them
all round as mother did, creptinto her own nest, never minding the
little drifts of snow that sifted inupon her coverlet between the shingles of the

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roof, though the storm that ragedwithout. As if he felt in need
of unusual vigilance, Old Boss laiddown the map before the door, and
Pussy had the warm hearth all toherself. If any late wanderer had looked
in at midnight, he would haveseen the fire blazing up again, and
in the cheerful glow, the OldCap linking her yellow eyes as she sat

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bowed upright beside the spinning wheel,like some sort of household gobbling, guarding
the children while they slept. Endof Part one.